


SPARK, SMOLDER, BURN

by callunavulgari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dark, F/M, Fanmix, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Pre-Poly, Psychopaths In Love, Sibling Incest, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're <i>hungry</i>, fires just waiting to spark. They're going to hunt and kill, and they'll drag Derek along for the ride. But, at least they'll all burn together. [Serial killer/Soulmate AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SPARK

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stonerskittles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonerskittles/gifts).



> Each chapter has a fic and a mix. Graphic, tracklist, and mix link at the top, fic in the middle, more detailed tracklist at the bottom. Be warned, while these aren't the darkest fics I've ever written, they do deal with serial killers and (attempts) to explore the darker aspects of soul bonds. Namely, how Derek's damaged psyche would influence Stiles and Cora through dream bonds. I don't really know how to put all that into a tag, so there's your warning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pt. i, stiles stilinski. for the boy who dreams of fire, violence in his bones and sparks on his skin.

 

## pt. i, stiles stilinski. for the boy who dreams of fire, violence in his bones and sparks on his skin.

 **the winter soldier** — henry jackman //  **constant craving**  — j2 ft. lesley roy  //  **beat and the pulse**  — austra //  **killer**  — the hoosiers // **i come with knives**  — iamx //  **haunted**  — beyonce // **take me to church**  — hozier //  **inertia creeps**  — massive attack //  **black black heart**  — david usher //  **the driver**  — bastille //  **fuck em only we know**  — banks //  **love through her**  — the weeknd //  **biting down**  — lorde //  **enemy**  — the weeknd //  **wires**  — the neighborhood //  **black**  — the soft moon //  **our demons (pair of arrows mix)**  — the glitch mob 

**[listen](https://8tracks.com/callunavulgari/spark)  **

 

**.**

 

 

The first dream that Stiles ever has is of a little girl, the bright yellow ribbon in her hair at odds with her scowl. He’s maybe four or five at the time, and doesn’t understand the significance. He has three more dreams, about running beneath the moonlight and trees stretching tall over his head, before he has one about her again. She’s smiling at another girl, a sister maybe, and saying something that Stiles can’t hear. Over her shoulder, there’s a mirror.

In the mirror, there’s a reflection.

The reflection isn’t Stiles’.

It isn’t of the girl either.

When he asks his mom about it, she lights up, pressing him for details and circling him like she’s looking for something.

“You haven’t met them yet,” she sighs, and slumps back against the couch cushions with a smile. “That’s a shame.”

.

The dreams change.

Stiles is nine years old and he dreams of fire.

The Hale house burns.

.

The dreams don’t stop. They keep changing, warping, from fire to blood to the sharp edge of a smile, bright white teeth and red lips. He wakes up to the memory of blood under his nails, of his teeth buried in a slender throat, and never really stops to wonder why in the dreams, his teeth and nails are too sharp.

Rarely, there are good dreams. Dreams where the little girl with the yellow ribbons in her hair is still alive, where Derek’s heart doesn’t feel sunken in quicksand. Dreams of family and the light of the moon on his skin, but those too tend to turn to fire and blood.

Derek Hale is a thousand miles away, and Stiles dreams of murdering the woman who stole his family from him every night.

.

The first time that Stiles kills someone, it’s with intent. There are no accidents, no slow realization that he likes the slow seep of blood from a cracked skull a bit too much. He plans it. Creeps away in the dead of the night to the bad side of town, where the sight of a thirteen year old boy in his pajamas is like offering candy to a child. He smiles at the man who stops to help him, pretending that he can’t see the hunger in the man’s eyes.

When the man has Stiles settled happily into the passenger seat of his car and is just starting to reach, Stiles lashes out.

There’s something that’s almost sense memory beneath his skin, the dreams guiding him, so he’s quick about it. Makes sure to get the jugular with that first swipe so the man is too weak to retaliate.

Stiles watches the man gurgle and spurt, the rage in his eyes quickly dimming to terror. He watches until the stranger stops twitching, blood slick between his fingers. And then he calmly gets out of the car and walks home.

He has one of the good dreams that night.

.

Laura Hale isn’t pretty in death, not the way that she always was in Derek’s dreams. It’s her top half, and she’s naked, but Stiles doesn’t feel anything for her cold, dead flesh. He’s not that kind of psychopath.

For a while, he crouches next to her, wondering if he should wait. The forest is dark, all lit up on the inside with forest sounds, but Stiles hasn’t feared the dark in a very long time.

On one hand, Derek will be here soon.

But on the other, Stiles thinks that Derek probably won’t want to meet his soulmate over his sister’s corpse.

Stiles leaves, whistling a jaunty tune as he goes, and salutes to the red eyes peering at him through the bushes.

.

Derek doesn’t touch Stiles the first time they see each other.

He doesn’t recognize him either.

Later, Stiles will tell himself that it might have been an overreaction to get Derek arrested for his sister’s murder in retaliation. Probably.

.

“Look,” Stiles says, skin tingling where Derek had touched him. It was just a touch, just Derek catching himself, the fingers of his left hand wrapping around Stiles’ bicep, but it was enough. He rubs the mark, ignoring the way that Derek’s eyes track it. “I’ll get you your bullet, we’ll get you healed, and then and only then will I explain what just happened, capiche?”

Derek pulls his shirt over his head in response, which Stiles thinks is maybe a bit much, but it does the job. Stiles’ eyes instantly go to all that new skin, tracking over Derek’s body, and after a moment, it clicks.

Across Derek’s clavicle, there’s a mark.

It’s pink, the way marks have gone when they’ve been there for a while, and the curl of fingers splayed over Derek’s chest is unmistakably feminine.

Stiles swallows, throat suddenly dry.

His fingers are itching for a knife, a gun, anything. Wants to press a shotgun to the wrist of the person who made that mark and blow their pretty hand right off. The bite of violence inside him is visceral, and for a moment, he can taste blood in his mouth.

“Yeah,” he says finally, clearing his throat and straightening his spine. He’s going to go and get Derek this fucking bullet, and then, once Derek isn’t in danger of dying, he’s going to go and rip something apart. “We’ll talk about that when I get back.”

.

They don’t really talk about it.

They don’t talk about it because, thirty seconds after Stiles gets back with the bullet, he has to catch Derek around the waist to keep him from falling.

The marks look obscene, the imprint of both of Stiles’ hands curled low around Derek’s hips. It’s indecent, the way Stiles’ left hand is slightly more centered than the right, the tips of his fingers stretched out to brush against Derek’s belly. They’re the types of marks you get when you’re fucking someone, not just saving them from faceplanting into a wall.

The moment lasts maybe a minute at most, Derek’s eyes wide as they go from Stiles’ face to the thumbprints permanently etched into his hipbones. His nostrils flare and then he breaks the bullet apart with his teeth.

Stiles always expected that when he left a mark on his soulmate, there would be less screaming involved.

.

After, Derek tugs Stiles back into the woods, and fucks him over the hood of his jeep.

It’s good. Long and hard, bruising. Stiles laughs into Derek’s kisses, his teeth digging in deep, until he tastes blood, and Derek growls and bites him back.

They do talk then, a bit.

Derek tells him about Kate. About her touch and her smile, and how he’d never realized until it was too late. Stiles remembers the sharp edged smiles of his dreams, the slender throat under his teeth, and thinks that it makes sense.

Derek doesn’t tell him about the other mark, not yet.

When he’s done, Stiles watches him, eyes glittering, and makes a promise.

.

A week later, Kate’s dead and Derek is the alpha.

Stiles takes his hand. Tells him, "I've got something to show you."

 

 

**.**

 

  
****the winter soldier**  || henry jackman**  
instrumental  
****

**constant craving || j2 ft. lesley roy**  
even through the darkest phase  
be it thick or thin  
always someone marches brave  
here beneath my skin  
  
**beat and the pulse || austra**  
fleeing from the beat and the pulse  
laughing like a fool  
playing for the heart and the soul  
and the soul  
**  
killer || the hoosiers  
** it's alright to scream  
i'm screaming too,  
why'd you think i do the things i do?  
for shadows haunted me like ghosts,  
so i became what i feared the most.

 **i come with knives || iamx**  
the monotony  
and the rising tide  
is under my skin, is crawling inside  
adrenaline to rewire my mind  
i'm only human, i come with knives

 **haunted || beyonce**  
my wicked tongue  
where will it be?  
i know if i'm on to you,  
on to you, you must be on to me

 **take me to church || hozier**  
i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
i'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
offer me that deathless death  
good god, let me give you my life.

 **inertia creeps || massive attack**  
recollect me darling, raise me to your lips  
two undernourished egos, four rotating hips  
hold on to me tightly, i'm a sliding scale  
can't endure, then you can't inhale.

 **black black heart || david usher**  
black black heart, why would you offer more?  
why would you make it easier on me to satisfy?  
i'm on fire, i'm rotting to the core  
i'm eating all your kings and queens  
all your sex and your diamonds.

 **the driver || bastille**  
shout out from the bottom of my lungs  
a plague on both your houses  
this thing  
it's a family affair  
it's drawing out my weakness  
  
**fuck em only we know || banks**  
we're just like magnets baby, hypnotized  
even addicted to your grumpy face  
i know exactly how many kisses fit between your eyes  
i'd run away with you, would you run with me?  
fuck em only we know  
  
**love through her || the weeknd**  
go back in time when i feel her  
she's touching me, it's too familiar  
she does exactly the way you used to  
let me take a break, i need a breather  
the way she's moving, i can't believe it now  
she does exactly the same, i must be going insane  
  
**biting down || lorde  
** the electronics of your heart  
see how fast they fall apart  
it feels better biting down

 **enemy || the weeknd**  
i wanna lose myself between your legs  
i wanna make your body shake  
i'd rather be your enemy  
than any friend you think i would be  
  
**wires || the neighborhood**  
we talked about making it.  
i'm sorry that you never made it.  
and it pains me just to hear you say it.  
you knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated  
you knew you had a reason.

 **black || the soft moon**  
i don't care what you say, you say  
living life my own way, own way  
i don't care what they say, they say  
living life my own way, own way

 **our demons || the glitch mob**  
no wonder, you're so stubborn  
nobody ever made you dig deeper  
no wonder you've got demons  
everything you ever did is coming back around

 

 


	2. SMOLDER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pt. ii, cora hale. for the girl who is hungry, smoke in her hair and ashes in her belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending notes have some potential infidelity triggers!

## 

## pt. ii, cora hale. for the girl who is hungry, smoke in her hair and ashes in her belly.

 **fortune days** — the glitch mob //  **yellow flicker beat**  — lorde  //  **take me to church (female)**  — hozier //  **serial killer**  — lana del rey // **kinda outta luck**  — lana del rey //  **one way or another**  — until the ribbon breaks // **shoot and run**  — josef salvat // **400 lux**  — lorde //  **wicked game**  — gemma hayes //  **our dance**  — wax tailor ft. chelsea //  **fire meets gasoline**  — sia // **delirious** — susanne sundfør //  **and i drove you crazy**  — banks //  **savages**  — marina & the diamonds //  **control**  — halsey //  **art of war**  — carolina webb // **carrion flowers**  — chelsea wolfe //

**[listen](https://8tracks.com/callunavulgari/smolder)  [  
](http://8tracks.com/callunavulgari/ready-or-not)**

 

**.**

 

Cora has had her mark for as long as she can remember. When she was young, she would stare at it in the mirror, head craned over her shoulder, hair pushed back.

“You probably got it while playing,” her mother had told her when she'd asked, shrugging the tension from her shoulders, and Cora had known it for a lie.

Her dreams, once she’s old enough to have them, are strange. Giraffes wearing suits, munching on Cheetos that went screaming down their gullets. Space whales with a colony of cultists on their backs. Oddities, that don’t give much insight into the person she’s destined to be with. They aren't the dreams of a soulmate that your parents would keep secret.

When the fire happens, Cora doesn’t sleep for a week. She runs and hides, the stench of her family’s burning bodies dogging her footsteps, ghosts nipping at her heels. She runs until she finally collapses, exhausted, and uses the last of her strength to crawl into a stinking, dirty alley. Reluctantly, she dreams.

The dreams have changed.  
  
Gone are the laughing giraffes and the screaming Cheetos.

Cora dreams of fire and blood, then when she wakes screaming herself hoarse, she sobs until her chest locks up, and hates herself for destroying her soulmate alongside of her.

.

When Cora was thirteen, she ripped the heart out of an omega in Brazil. He had hurt her badly and was planning on hurting her more, so she’d reached out, rage a welcome friend, and clawed her way through muscle and sinew, shattering bone. It should have felt awful. Death has a scent, even before the rot sets in, and she should have hated it.

She didn’t.

It made her feel powerful. Hungry, aching, the smell of blood blotting out the stench of ash. In control, for the first time in years.  She'd left the body there, propped up against an old, rusting car, and moved on.

That night, her soulmate dreamed a death of his own. A stranger in a car, belt halfway undone, blood slicking his chest. She could feel her soulmate’s interest, how his eyes tracked the blood, relishing in the stink of terror. 

In the rearview mirror, a pair of dark eyes met hers.

There was no way that her soulmate could see her, but he smiled like he could.

.

She is fourteen when she finds a pack that takes her in. A smiling, kindly woman tells her that the Hales were always good to them, and ushers Cora inside of their home. Cora eats well and sleeps on a mountain of pillows that feel like clouds. She dreams of blood and wakes hungry.

She plans her first kill when she is fifteen, mere days after she dreams her soulmate's third kill. It's a messy piece of work, done with claws and fang. An animal kill, to offset her mate's elegant, _human_ ones.

When she is sixteen, she loses her virginity to someone who doesn't matter. She goes to bed hungry. Dreams.

Seventeen, when word reaches her of a Hale alpha rising to power. Still seventeen when her soulmate dreams her brother splayed out beneath him, Derek’s eyes red and challenging as her soulmate fits his hands against two red marks low on her brother’s hips.

They’re a perfect match.

Cora leaves her pack and goes to find them.

.

Derek isn’t what she expected. For that matter, neither is her soulmate.

Stiles is many things. Skinny, pale, and weak at first glance. He downplays his talents, playing the fool for his friends. It’s only Derek who seems to really know what he’s capable of, and they exchange private looks across packed rooms, dark and wanting. 

There are no secrets there. She can smell them on each other, sweat and sex and come, but there’s more than that, scents soaking into one another as if they’re meant to be one. She hates Derek for it, and doesn’t say a thing.  
  
She's content enough to wait.

.

“You shouldn’t use the gun tonight,” she tells Stiles, popping the door to the jeep open and crawling inside. He jumps, hits his head on the roof, and makes a poor attempt at hiding the gun in his lap. Cora gives him a flat look, pointedly tapping her nose once.

Stiles frowns at her, anger spiking, and she thinks that he’s probably fighting with Derek again.

“What would you know about it?” he asks, baring his teeth in a mockery of a smile.

She flashes her own teeth back at him, making her own smile into a weapon, pleased when his eyes widen.  
  
“Let me come with you tonight,” she purrs, tracing her claws along the seam of his pants, careful not to let the fabric dent in and touch skin. “I’ll let you find out.”

He swallows, eyes darting up to the loft, where she knows Derek is pacing himself in circles.

“Don’t worry about Derek. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

At last, Stiles nods, jerkily, and starts the car.

She relaxes back into her seat, unspeakably pleased.

“So what should I use instead of the gun?” Stiles asks her after a moment, carefully backing out of the lot. Cora’s eyes lock on Derek, watching them from the window. She flashes her eyes, grinning brightly, and leans closer to Stiles, until her lips are inches from his skin.

“Ever use your hands?” she whispers.  
  
Above them, something fragile shatters in the loft.   
  
Giddy with the hunt, she laughs herself breathless.

.

Derek is already snarling when Cora returns, a triumphant smile playing around her lips. She smells of blood and _Stiles_. His sweat. His excitement. His _come_. It's still a thrill, how he’d looked at her after that man breathed his last, as if he'd finally realized what she'd known all along. That _she_ was his very mirror, and that no one would quite understand him like she would. Not his friends. Not his precious Lydia. Not Derek. _Her_. Their unwitting victim hadn’t been dead for a full minute before Stiles was letting her have him.

She fucked him in the backseat of his jeep, made it so good that he didn’t even seem to feel it when she settled her fingers against the nape of his neck, leaving her mark behind, fingerpaint that he could never wash off.

For a moment, she feels horribly vindictive, walking into the loft covered in Stiles’ stink. It isn’t _Derek’s_ fault that they have the same soulmate. But right now, she wants to make him hurt for getting there first. Wants to let him know that all she had to do was spread her legs after a fresh kill and Stiles was on her, Derek forgotten.

“Jealous, Derek?” she asks, smirking when he slams her up against the wall.

His eyes are alpha red, and by all accounts, Cora should be terrified. 

“Don’t worry,” she tells him, patting his cheek. “I’m sure your boy hasn’t forgotten you _completely_.”

That seems to strike a nerve, because Derek’s hands are trembling as he lets go of her, reaching down for the hem of her shirt. She blinks once, startled. “What are you—” she starts, cutting off with a little squeak as he yanks her shirt over her head.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses, clutching her hands across her chest. She’s wearing a bra, and god knows he’s seen her in less when they were younger, but it’s still not okay, especially not when he grabs her wrist, manhandling her over to the mirror. He turns her, so her back is facing the mirror, and twists her hair out of the way, around and around his wrist.

The mark on her back looks the same as always. Pink from age, just off center between her shoulderblades.

Her new mark is settled against the curve of her spine, shiny and red. _Unexpected_.

She looks at both of the marks, then back up to him.

Carefully, his chest heaving, he fits his hand up against the old mark, the one that’s been with her forever. She sucks in a breath, startled, because it _fits_.

“Mom didn’t want me to tell you,” he tells her quietly, stepping back once he’s sure that she’s seen what he wanted her to. He strips off his own shirt, and immediately, her eyes dart to the bright red marks across his hips, the ones that she’d seen through Stiles’ eyes. They match the breadth of Stiles’ hands, she already knows, bright enough that they can only be recent, and a perfect match to hers.

Derek reaches out for her, and carefully, tilts her chin up.

She sucks in a shocked breath.

There’s another mark, there on his chest, just above his heart, pink with age and much smaller than Stiles’ hands.

“It was about the size of a golf ball at first,” he tells her quietly, drawing her attention back to his face. He looks absolutely tortured, all the rage gone out of his expression. “I was worried, that it would always be that size, but it grew with you.”

He smiles as he says it, fingers tracing the edge of the mark, and she’s startled to realize that she _remembers_ Derek doing that before. He’d done it hundreds of times, whenever he was feeling nervous. Laura used to tease him about it.

Gently, so very gently, she reaches out, pressing her hand to his skin.

“Oh,” she breathes. “But—”

“I thought you were dead," he tells her, relaxing into her touch. "And then when Stiles came along, it seemed like a second chance. So when it happened between us, I... went for it.”

“Huh,” she says, her head aching. She'd always thought... But it makes sense. Her parents secrecy, how the dreams never seemed to match up to what she'd expected. She licks her lips, tracing her fingers down his torso to skate along the edges of Stiles' marks. She fits her hand up against it. It shocks her, and she steps back with a startled laugh. “Do you regret him? Stiles?”

It takes Derek a moment to answer, and she knows that he’s thinking of Stiles, standing in that corner just earlier today, flinging his arms every which way. Maybe even thinking about the way his scent lingers on Cora's skin, between them. For the first time, she realizes that _she’s_ the reason that they’ve been fighting.

“No,” he says at last. “I can’t regret him.”

She nods, sucking a breath in through her nose. Slowly, she lets it out.

“Well, that’s probably a good thing,” she tells him with a wry smile, touching her fresh mark. Hunger simmers low in her belly, and she wonders if Derek would be willing to go hunting with them once Stiles gets here. “Considering that we seem to be stuck with him.”

 

 

 

.

 

 

  
****fortune days**  || the glitch mob**  
instrumental  
****

**yellow flicker beat || lorde**  
i'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm.  
and the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold.  
my blood is a flood of rubies, precious stones,  
it keeps my veins hot, the fire's found a home in me.

i move through town, i'm quiet like a fight,  
and my necklace is of rope, i tie it and untie.  
  
**take me to church || hozier**  
i was born sick,  
but i love it.  
command me to be well.  
amen. amen. amen. **  
**

**serial killer || lana del rey**  
baby, i'm a sociopath,  
sweet serial killer.  
on the warpath,  
'cause i love you just a little too much.

 **kinda outta luck || lana del rey**  
wrong, i know, killing someone  
it gets a little easier when you've done it once  
you know that i'm fun, you know that i'm young  
so tell me your mind, let's get it on.

 **one way or another || until the ribbon breaks**  
one way or another, i'm gonna find you,  
i'm gonna getcha, getcha, getca  
one way or another, i'm gonna see ya  
i'm gonna meetcha, meetcha, meetcha  
one day, maybe next week  
i'm gonna meetcha, i'm gonna meetcha, i'll meetcha.

 **shoot and run || josef salvat**  
happy hunter, ripe fresh kill  
on to the next one, gotta chase the thrill  
you gotta chase the thrill  
if you wanna have fun, you gotta shoot and run.

 **400 lux || lorde  
** you pick me up and take me home again  
head out the window again  
we're hollow like the bottles that we drain  
you drape your wrists over the steering wheel  
pulses can drive from here  
we might be hollow, but we're brave.

 **wicked game || gemma hayes**  
what a wicked thing to say  
you never felt this way  
what a wicked thing to do  
to make me dream of you  
  
**our dance || wax tailor**  
before this night ends  
i will mingle and find you  
until your hand is in my hand  
  
so much sweat and laughter  
so much for electric beats  
and spark when you come so sweet  
  
**fire meets gasoline || sia  
** so come on now  
strike the match, strike the match now  
we're a perfect match, perfect somehow  
we were meant for one another  
come a little closer  
  
**delirious || susanne sundfør**  
i hope you got, a safety net  
cause i'm gonna push you over the edge  
the strangest thing, deliberate  
done with intent without repent

 **and i drove you crazy || banks**  
i should have seen that you would only mess me up  
i should have seen that i would only mess you up  
i know you hurt, i know you hurt, i drove you crazy  
you should have seen that i'd only mess you up  
  
**savages || marina & the diamonds**  
were we born to abuse, shoot a gun and run  
or has something deep inside of us come undone?  
is it a human trait, or is it learned behavior  
are you killing for yourself, or killing for your savior? 

 **control || halsey  
** i'm bigger than my body  
i'm colder than this home  
i'm meaner than my demons  
i'm bigger than these bones  
  
and all the kids cried out,  
"please stop, you're scaring me"  
i can't help this awful energy  
goddamn right, you should be scared of me

 **art of war || carolina webb**  
but it's all that you have  
only way you'll survive  
and you hide what you know  
just to keep them alive  
  
when you love  
but my love just died

 **carrion flowers || chelsea wolfe**  
creatures of habit, carrion flowers  
growing from repeated crimes  
the afterglow in full bloom  
slow and relentless, we're after you  
hold on to the pain  
of love taken from you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Cora sleeps with Stiles. It's kind of brushing the line of infidelity, because Derek is obviously unhappy about it for several reasons, but Stiles and Derek are technically broken up at the time, as you'll find out next chapter, so I haven't included the tag. If anyone feels that I should add it, let me know.


	3. BURN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pt. iii. derek hale. for the man with the scars, waiting to burn.

## 

## pt. iii. derek hale. for the man with the scars, waiting to burn.

 **did that hurt** — danny elfman //  **have mercy**  — crookers ft. carrie wilds //  **wicked games**  — the weeknd //  **carousel**  — melanie martinez // **hungry like the wolf**  — snow hill //  **i can't feel my face**  — the weeknd // **you're the one that i want**  — lo fang //  **crazy in love**  — beyonce //  **no church in the wild**  — kanye west //  **trouble**  — halsey //  **love is a suicide**  — natalia kills //  **alibi**  — banks //  **ransom**  — son lux //  **close enemies**  — example //  **glass heart hymn**  — paper route //  **dark doo wop** — ms mr //  **what a wonderful world —** joseph william morgan

**[listen](https://8tracks.com/callunavulgari/burn)  [  
](http://8tracks.com/callunavulgari/ready-or-not)**

 

**.**

 

The first time that Derek held his baby sister, a mark the size of her head seared itself across the baby smooth skin of her back. Derek himself was only six, but Cora was a tiny baby. The mark stretched from her left shoulder blade to curl around her lower ribs, huge and red. Angry looking. She started wailing immediately, her dark eyes wide and startled, but not quite hurt.

At the time, she’d been swaddled in a blanket, so nobody had really realized. For forty-five precious minutes, they just thought that Derek had surprised her, because she’d quieted soon after Derek had started to clumsily rock her, whispering soothing nonsense words in her ear.

When she fell asleep in his arms, his mom had smiled at him, proud, but still weary, and told Derek that it looked like Cora liked him after all.

For what felt like forever, Derek had held her, marvelling at the lightness of her.

She woke up just as Derek started getting bored, blinking sleepy eyes open and smiling, bright and happy as her chubby little hand patted his chest. His resulting flinch drew the attention of their mother, and she looked at him curiously as Derek carefully peeled back the collar of his shirt.

The mark on his chest was little. So very tiny, just a little bigger than a golf ball, Cora’s grasping little fingers permanently burned into his skin.

After that, it was mostly just chaos.

.

It was the best kept secret in all of Beacon Hills.

Four people knew about the mark. Derek, of course, because it was _his_ mark. His mother and father. And the psychologist that his parents had grudgingly decided to trust.

She asked him about his dreams a lot. If they were any different or if the colors had changed. At the time, he’d shrugged, because he didn’t really remember most of his dreams.

When Cora was about to turn four, his mom had pulled him into the study.

“We just think it would be for the best,” she told him, carefully, Derek’s father at her side wearing a grim face. “If you maybe didn’t tell Cora when she asks.”

He had blinked, confused, until his mother elaborated. “About the mark, dear.”

“Oh,” he said, still reeling. In school, everyone always said that soulmates were a good thing. That you were lucky to have one. And while Derek had never really said anything about Cora, because she was still a baby, he wasn’t ashamed of her. “Why?”

His mother bit her lip, fidgeting until his father reached out to still her. “We just think it might be better to give her a choice. She might get confused and think that…”

“Think what?”

“Well, that it’s romantic, sweetheart. She’s little, so she won’t know any better.”

Derek, who’d been having especially strange dreams for the last few weeks, bit his lip. If they didn’t know, he realized, they couldn’t take her away from him.

He nodded, shrugging, and said, “Okay. Can I go play with Laura now?”

.

It got harder when Cora started asking questions. Harder as she grew up, as Derek had more and more of her dreams.

Because they were definitely her dreams. Derek knew what that meant. There’d been a class on it in fourth grade, about recognizing your soul mate and knowing what different manifestations meant.

His parents told her that they weren’t sure about her mark, that she might have gotten it while playing one day, and she was too little to be able to hear the lie.

.

Kate wasn’t supposed to happen.

She happened anyway, because Derek was young and stupid, and he couldn’t tell his nine year old sister that she was his soulmate.

Because of Derek’s stupidity, his family dies in agony.

Derek was young and stupid, and now he’ll never get the chance to tell his little sister that she’s his soulmate, because he killed her.

.

He doesn’t tell Laura.

Not about Kate, or Cora, or all the guilt that he keeps tucked away. He goes out every night, no matter the town, and fucks away the memory of Kate’s touch. And when that doesn’t work, he works himself until he’s too tired to stand, and then drugs himself into the sleep of the dead, because he can’t bear the thought of a true dreamless sleep.

.

Laura dies.

Derek buries half of her body and feels himself coming apart at the seams.

.

The first time Derek touches Stiles, the kid flinches away from him, _hard_.

For half a second, Derek thinks that it’s because Stiles is afraid of him. It would make sense. Derek is a wolf. Stiles is a soft, fragile human. It’s only good sense to be afraid.

Stiles’ hand goes to the place that Derek just touched, hesitantly, and Derek looks at him and _knows_.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Stiles tells him weakly, starting to turn away. The idiot kid is fully intent on breaking into the Argent household to get Derek the bullet that will save his life, and from the way he’s looking at Derek, he knew. Even before Derek touched him, he _knew_ who Derek was to him.

Fair’s only fair, he thinks, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Once Cora’s mark is revealed, Stiles narrows his eyes at it. There’s a spike of anger, and then he shakes his head, and calms himself. He clears his throat and meets Derek’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he says, visibly steeling himself, spine going straight, shoulders back, eyes glinting hard and dark. It's like looking at a different person, someone unafraid and determined. “We’ll talk about that when I come back.”

.

He comes back with the bullet, not a bruise on him, a triumphant smile in place.

Derek staggers. Stiles _catches_ him.

.

“So,” Stiles hums, jabbing Derek in the side with his elbow. “How was it?”

Derek squints his eyes open and peers at Stiles, who is looking down at him, tugging leaves out of his hair. He’s flushed all over and there are blades of grass clinging to the mark wrapped around his bicep. 

Something in Derek aches to see it, because that means that Cora is really gone. That for some reason, he was given a second chance.

“Acceptable,” Derek smirks, closing his eyes again when Stiles squawks at him.

.

“I’ll kill her for you,” Stiles tells him, offhanded, almost bored. Derek opens his mouth— 

Stiles' eyes glint, hard and cold, a promise of violence. A mischievous smile plays around his mouth as he adds, “If you kill the alpha for me.”  
  
Derek's mouth clicks shut.

The part of him that was ready to protest someone like Stiles killing someone like Kate dies a swift, miserable death.

Stiles waggles his fingers. “Deal?”

They shake on it.

.

A year later, Derek finds his sister in a bank vault.

He looks at Stiles, carefully bundling Cora and Boyd into the back of the jeep, and feels his chest stutter and bruise.

Two nights later, he looks at Stiles and says, “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

.

Cora hates him.

Judging by the rising body count, Stiles has gone on a killing spree.

And the alpha pack is circling ever closer.

.

The police have just found another body and Derek has spent the last five minutes listening to the lady behind the counter gossip about it when Cora sighs and stops chewing on her straw long enough to tell him, “They aren’t him, you know."

“What?” Derek says, turning, sure that he heard her wrong.

She grimaces at him and sips her coffee properly. “The bodies. They aren’t his style.”

“Whose?”

She gives him a look. “Who do you think. I’m not saying his name in here.”

Derek goes quiet and thoughtful. He and Stiles never really talked about it, never acknowledged the thing that made Stiles just a little bit _wrong_ , but Cora was right. The timing was suspect, but Stiles… he didn’t kill indiscriminately. He killed people that his father wouldn’t mind seeing in prison, and almost always took them from outside of Beacon Hills.

He’d killed Kate and Gerard, but those were different. Those kills were personal.

Derek hums something noncommittal, and takes a drink of his coffee. 

.

“So, she’s your soulmate, huh.”

Stiles eyes him over the side of the couch, flipping a cushion in his lap. Derek doesn’t know how long Stiles has been here, lying in wait for him, but he looks tired. Somehow, he's not surprised that Stiles put it together in the end.

Miserably, he nods.

Derek has never been very good at reading Stiles. When he expects Stiles to run away screaming, Stiles steels himself and picks up a baseball bat. When he finds Derek dying slowly by the side of the highway, he takes Derek to safety and steals the only thing that will save him from a well trained family of hunters. When something threatens Derek, Stiles doesn’t retreat and quietly pretend he never knew Derek at all, he picks up his toys and kills them nice and slow-like.

This time is no different. Stiles doesn’t wrinkle his nose. Doesn’t say in tones of great disgust, “But she’s your sister.” Doesn’t ask hesitantly, “It’s platonic, right?”

Stiles sucks in a deep breath and stands up. He creeps closer, gait slow and predatory, more wolf-like than half the wolves in Derek’s pack. Stiles stops just in front of him, waiting patiently for Derek to tip his head up.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Stiles sighs, and kisses him.

They fuck on Derek’s bed, and after, Stiles leaves without a word.

When Cora gets home that night, she wrinkles her nose up and flicks her hands out in disgust. A hot rush of shame goes down Derek’s spine, but it’s not like he asked for this. Two soulmates — one who hates him and another who covets him jealously — it’s like the ultimate punchline to his joke of a life.

Two weeks ago, he would have crept away from her, tail between his legs. But now, with the memory of Stiles on his lips and teeth, Stiles’ words in his ear as he whispered, “She doesn’t know though, does she?” he can’t find the will to pretend that he’s ashamed.

He stares Cora down until she backs away, huffing in exasperation, but saying nothing more on the subject.

.

“And right on time,” Cora snorts, a smirk tipping up the corner of her mouth as Stiles comes barreling in through the front door.

Derek looks at him, searching. Sure enough, there it is, the new mark wrapped around the base of his skull, only the very tip of a thumb visible from straight on. Clearly he’d missed the mark when it formed, just as Cora had.

“You—” Stiles starts, eyes flicking back and forth between both of them. He looks unsteady, a little bit unsure of his welcome. Derek doesn’t blame him. After all, he and Cora are both half naked and very, very close.

Cora looks like she’s tempted to string him along for a bit longer, but Derek’s never been able to deny him anything. Stiles is dangerous, all cutting switchblade smiles and barbed wire veins, but sometimes, very occasionally, Derek will remember that he's still human. He's allowed to be, every once and a while.

Derek sighs, holding out a hand.

Stiles steps closer, still wary, and takes it.

“So, what is this?” he asks, eyes flicking down to the new mark on Cora’s back. He touches it hesitantly, jerking away quickly as if she’s going to bite him. She raises an eyebrow at him, mocking, and Stiles finds his spine quickly, eyes narrowing into slits.

Cora rolls her eyes. “It’s pretty obvious that it’s a three-way mark.”

“But I thought—” Stiles cuts himself off, frowning, fingers darting out to skate across Derek’s hips. He peers at the bright skin there, then up to Cora’s mark on his chest. At last, he whispers, “I only had Derek’s dreams though.”

“And I only had yours.” Cora shrugs. “I’m assuming Derek had mine. Soul marks are fickle, everyone knows that.”

“So, you’re both…” Stiles starts, licking his lips. He looks helplessly between them. “Mine?”

Derek’s hands clench at his sides. They’re a fucked up group, the three of them. He’s only just starting to guess what damage his dreams have done to the both of them, and he’s mostly sure that Cora’s still going to resent him, at least for a little while. Stiles isn’t going to grow to love Cora immediately, not the way Derek loves them both. 

Stiles is too possessive.

Cora too reckless.

Derek himself too willing to let them bend and mold him to their whims.

They're  _hungry_ , fires just waiting to spark. They're going to hunt and kill, and they'll drag Derek along for the ride. But, at least this way, they'll all burn together.

Derek sucks in a deep breath, sliding his hands around them both, grounding himself in their skin. “And you’re ours.”

 

 

.

  
****did that hurt**  || danny elfman**  
instrumental  
****

**have mercy || crookers ft. carrie wilds  
** time has come  
to pay for what you've done  
i've been waiting so patiently **  
**

you won't fall  
you crumble till you crawl  
there's no walking away from me

 **wicked games || the weeknd**  
so tell me you love me  
only for tonight  
only for the night  
even though you don't love me  
**  
** **carousel || melanie martinez**  
And it’s all fun and games,  
'til somebody falls in love,  
but you've already bought a ticket,  
and there’s no turning back now

 **hungry like the wolf || snow hill**  
in touch with the ground  
i'm on the hunt i'm after you  
a scent and a sound, i'm lost and i'm found  
and i'm hungry like the wolf

 **i can't feel my face || the weeknd**  
and i know she'll be the death of me, at least we'll both be numb  
and she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come  
all the misery was necessary when we're deep in love  
this i know, yes i know, and i know

 **you're the one that i want || lo fang  
** i got chills **  
** they're multiplying  
and I'm losing control

you better shape up  
'cause i need a man  
and my heart is set on you

 **crazy in love || beyonce**  
you got me looking, so crazy my baby  
i'm not myself lately i'm foolish, i don't do this  
i've been playing myself, baby i don't care  
baby your love's got the best of me  
your love's got the best of me

 **no church in the wild || kanye west  
** i live by you, desire  
i stand by you, walk through the fire  
your love is my scripture  
let me into your encryption

two tattoos, one read “no apologies”  
the other said “love is cursed by monogamy”

 **trouble || halsey**  
and i've got my mind, made up this time.  
go on and light a cigarette, set a fire in my head.  
set a fire in my head, tonight.  
  
**love is a suicide || natalia kills**  
you like the smell of blood  
when it's pumpin' like a factory  
ooh, you like your words to cut  
you like to choose the best artillery  
  
you love me like an enemy  
  
**alibi || banks  
** baby, i tried  
i promise i'm usually better than this  
and now i can't even recognize myself anymore  
you turned me into this

 **ransom || son lux**  
what wish will ransom me?  
unbury violently  
all innocents, all innocents?  
lanterns illumine me  
burning the memory  
rise innocent, rise innocent  
  
what rage will usher me?  
swallow the enemy  
buy innocence, buy innocence  
lanterns illumine me  
incense from memory  
rise innocent, rise innocent  
  
**close enemies || example**  
there's light at the end of the tunnel  
there's fight at the heart of a struggle  
your smile should've told me you're trouble  
no more, no more, no more  
  
you owned me when i told you, "i love you."  
you buried all my words with a shovel  
your smile should've told me you're trouble  
no more, no more, no more

 **glass heart hymn || paper route  
** i am empty  
in my end you are my beginning

there’s a ghost in the mirror  
i’m afraid more than ever  
my feet have led me straight into my grave

 **dark doo wop || ms mr  
** this world is gonna burn, burn, burn  
as long as we're going down,  
baby, you should stick around.

if we're gonna die, bury us alive.

 **what a wonderful world || joseph william morgan ft. shadow royale**  
i see skies of blue and clouds of white  
the bright blessed the day, the dark sacred night  
and i think to myself  
what a wonderful world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. As you can tell, I went with soulmates AND serial killers. The story fought me at every turn and I'm still not entirely happy with it, but considering that they were supposed to be 300 words each I'm just going to wash my hands of the whole thing. The mixes are clearly the crowning achievement here, and I really hope you enjoy listening to them as much as I did.


End file.
